


I Killed Before It Was Cool

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: Blood and Gore, Character Death, F/F, F/M, Horror, M/M, Murder, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Thriller, Torture, Violence, happy halloween mofos!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-07-28 01:49:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16231736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Cartman has never been a good friend, or a good person. It’s better to cut him out, right?Right?





	1. 1

_“Dude, I think it might be best for us to never piss Cartman off again.”_

_“Good call.”_

A lot of crazy shit happens when you’re young. Some of it you remember, and some of it gets shoved down and boxed away to be unpacked later in therapy, seemingly forgotten. It’s good to go to therapy. It’s especially good if your names are Stan Marsh and Kyle Broflovski, and you watched your friend Eric Cartman feed a fifteen year old his dead parents and then proceed drink his tears. But therapy is expensive, boring, and long, and how do you even know you if need it when you can’t remember what exactly happened? If you forced the memories to the back of your head and went on like your life was normal?

Not unpacking all that should be okay, at least for a while. Stan, Kyle, and Cartman will go on with their lives as if it never happened. Maybe it didn’t for Stan and Kyle. But Cartman remembers, and that’s the scariest part. He doesn’t care. It doesn’t affect him. He’d do it again in a heartbeat, without an ounce of regret holding him back. And that’s where it gets dangerous, because without the memories to remind Stan and Kyle, it’s impossible to know how far is too far. 

***

“Screw you guys, I’m going home!” 

The famous words ring through Kyle’s living room. The house hasn’t changed in the last seven years, but its occupants have. Kyle’s never looked better after he cautiously opened his mind to skincare and skinny jeans during the resurgence of the metrosexual fad in sophomore year. Stan’s gotten to third base with Wendy. Kenny’s opened his mind to skincare and skinny jeans, and gotten to third base with Wendy. But there’s one person who hasn’t changed: Eric Theodore Cartman. He’s as fat, mean, and moody as ever, and it gets worse every day. 

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, fatass!” Kyle slams the door and immediately turns to Stan and Kenny with a frustrated growl. “I cannot fucking believe that asshole!”

“We shouldn’t have invited him,” Kenny says. His voice is muffled through his classic orange parka. It’s impossible that it’s the same one from fourth grade, but Kyle can’t seem to come to any other conclusion. It looks, feels, even smells the same, only bigger. “He always ruins everything.”

“Yeah, you’d think Cards Against Humanity is the one thing he wouldn’t fuck up.” Stan pinches the bridge of his nose, hard enough that Kyle can see the red marks from his fingernails forming. 

“It’s bullshit! He’s, ugh, he’s such a dick!” Kyle paces angrily. “I hate him!”

“Why are we even friends with him?” Kenny flips through the deck, only half paying attention, giggling quietly at the cards. 

“What if we weren’t?” Stan’s voice is barely a whisper. The sounds of shuffling cards and stomping stop abruptly. Kyle and Kenny share a dumbfounded stare. Kyle takes a step toward Stan, his movements shaky. 

“We can’t do that, Stan.”

“Why not?”

“He-he’ll, god, I don’t know what he’ll do! At least we have him where we can keep an eye on him!” Kyle looks to Kenny, who nods furiously. “Stan, it’s too dangerous.”

“Cartman isn’t dangerous,” Stan argues. “He’s just a racist, bigoted, fat bag of dicks that feeds off of making our lives miserable. Wouldn’t your life be better off without him calling you a stupid Jew every day? Or ripping on Kenny for being poor?”

“He made me prostitute myself out last week and then kept all the money,” Kenny adds. He puts down the cards and joins Stan. “I’m with you.”

“Oh my god, that’s horrible, are you okay? Wait, stop distracting me! It doesn’t matter.” Kyle pulls the ears of his hat, knocking a chunk of curly red hair loose into his face. “Yeah, he’s a shitty person, but shouldn’t we, you know, keep our enemies closer or something?” 

“Why, Kyle?” Stan takes Kyle’s wrists and gently lifts his hands away from his hat. “He can’t hurt us if we don’t let him. I mean, he has a huge police file and he’s only one more fight away from being expelled for good. If all else fails, we can get restraining orders.”

“I can’t afford that,” Kenny says from where he’s collapsed into the couch. 

“You and I can get restraining orders,” Stan amends. “Listen, Kyle, just think about it, okay? This only works if we’re all in.”

“Fine.” Kyle sighs. “Do you wanna stay over? Mom and dad took Ike up to Montana for that stupid hockey championship and I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

“Sorry, I’ve got a date with Wendy.” Stan shoots Kyle a guilty look. “It’s our seven year anniversary. It’s a big deal.”

“Oh, that’s sweet.” Kyle nods, although his heart isn’t in it. “Have fun.”

“I’ll sleep over,” Kenny offers. 

“Thanks, Kenny.” Kyle puts the lid of the box back over the Cards Against Humanity deck. “We’ve still got an hour left. Let’s enjoy it, guys.”

Too soon, Wendy shows up in her hybrid pickup truck to take Stan to Olive Garden with her. She stays and chats with Kyle and Kenny for a little while, cuddling into Stan’s side on the sofa. Wendy looks almost exactly as she had in fourth grade, but she’s traded the bright yellow leggings for plain black ones and let her bangs grow to the same length as the rest of her hair. She left behind some of her innocence and sweetness as she grew up, but it’s impossible to know that when she’s with Stan. He positively glows as well when he holds her hand and touches her face. It’s sickeningly adorable. 

After about ten minutes of casual conversation, it’s all too clear that Stan and Wendy want nothing more than to get out of Kyle’s house and start their date. Kyle and Kenny wave them off, only closing the door when the truck is out of sight. Kyle takes out his phone, and Kenny knows enough to leave him to mope on his own. 

Kenny moves through Kyle’s house with the expertise of someone who’s lived half their life in it. Between the Cartmans, Randy Marsh, Sheila Broflovski, and Mr. and Mrs. McCormick themselves, an overbearing mother is certainly the least threatening, and Kenny has easily spent more time at Kyle’s place than his own. He eats a leftover slice of pizza, washes his face, and brushes his hair. Kyle pockets his phone and follows at a slower pace. While Kyle changes in the bathroom, Kenny takes off his parka and snuggles into his friend’s bed. 

“Do you think it’s weird that we’re seventeen years old and we still sleep in the same bed?” Kyle asks, tucking himself in beside Kenny. 

“Nah.” Kenny’s voice is unobstructed for once. It sounds nice. “Wendy told me Heidi and Red do.”

“But they’re dating, Kenny,” Kyle reminds him. 

Kenny grins to himself at the thought. “But before they started going out. I remember ‘cause Wendy said it was always really weird when she and Bebe wanted to stay over. Heidi would only let Red in her bed even if Wendy or Bebe asked.” Kyle is quiet, letting that sink in for Kenny. “Oh shit.”

“See?” Kyle snorts at the astonished look on Kenny’s face. “I mean, I like sleeping, um, next to you, but I guess it’s kinda gay now.”

“Well, maybe gay is okay.” Kenny stretches out across the twin sized bed, his legs tangling with Kyle’s. 

“That doesn’t mean I want anyone saying it about me.” Kyle shifts closer to Kenny. His eyes flick to his friend’s lips. Kenny pulls Kyle in by the waist and lets his hands wander farther down. 

“They won’t find out,” Kenny says, and kisses Kyle’s neck. 

***

Wendy nods as she twirls her spaghetti around her fork. “I cut all ties with him and I’m happier than ever. Kyle has nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, but it’s different for him, Wends. We were his friends, no matter how gay that sounds. He’s not gonna give up that easily.” Stan stabs the crouton in his salad and it snaps in two. He groans. “And Cartman has done some fucked up shit to Kyle in particular. Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“No! You’re all so much better off without him.” Wendy puts her fork back down, sending Stan a stern glare. “He never deserved you three.”

“I know, it’s just, well, he’s a sociopath, Wendy, what if he hurts Kyle? Or Kenny? Or _me?” _Stan gestures for Wendy to keep eating and she takes a bite, accidentally flicking marinara sauce onto her cheek.__

__“You’re three badass boys, and you’ve got a big strong girl to protect you if things get ugly.” Wendy shrugs her coat off of one arm to give Stan a full view of her flexed bicep. “Relax. It’ll be fine.”_ _

__“Holy shit, you’re actually buffer than me.” Stan reaches across the table to squeeze Wendy’s muscles, his face inches from hers. Her hair tickles his nose. Stan catches his breath with a slight shiver. “You’ve got something on your face,” he murmurs, leaning in to lick the sauce off of her cheek._ _

__“Maybe I was saving it for later,” Wendy purrs, grabbing Stan’s collar. “Looks like I have to get it back now.” She presses her lips against his, licking the sauce from around and inside his mouth._ _

__“Wendy, we’re in the middle of Olive Garden,” Stan gasps, crossing his legs and adjusting his napkin over his lap. He spots an older couple glowering at them in disgust from across the restaurant and blushes._ _

__“Think you can wait till we reach the car?” Wendy kisses his cheek and twists to wave a waiter over. “We’d like the check, please.”_ _

__***_ _

__“Best anniversary ever.” Stan pulls his coat tighter around himself as a chill wind blows through the air, stirring the feathers of the pigeons nesting on the _“South Park High School” _sign. “Enough about me and Wendy though, how was your night?”_ _ __

__

__

__“Fine! Normal.” Kyle tugs the collar of his shirt up over a dark spot on his throat, his face almost the exact same shade of red as the hickey._ _

__“Heterosexual,” Kenny offers. Kyle kicks him in the shin._ _

__“Oh no.” Stan freezes._ _

__“No, man, Kenny’s being a smartass! Nothing gay happened.” Kyle kicks Kenny again, harder._ _

__“Not that. Cartman’s coming.” Stan points to a red blob in the distance. “Quick, we’re all doing this or none of us are, Kyle.” He turns away from the blob and sticks out his hand. Kenny puts his on top of it._ _

__“I don’t know.” Kyle can see the approaching Cartman from the corner of his eye. “Hasn’t he done some nice things for us?”_ _

__“No,” Kenny says._ _

__“He tried to wipe out your people, dude. Multiple times. And force you to suck his balls,” Stan pleads. “We’re just gonna keep getting hurt if we don’t end it right now.”_ _

__Kyle looks between his friends’ outstretched hands and the teenager rushing toward them. “Um…” He’s able to make out individual features on the running figure now._ _

__“Hurry!” Stan hisses. “Are you in or not?”_ _

__“Fine, I’m in!” Kyle adds his hand to the pile. “Fuck Cartman.”_ _

__“What was that, Jew?” Kyle can’t help but flinch when he hears the voice behind him._ _

__“I said, ‘fuck Cartman,’” Kyle faces Cartman, staring straight into his eyes. It’s like staring down a lion. Kyle forces himself to maintain eye contact despite the uneasiness brewing in the pit of his stomach. I’m done with you.”_ _

__“Me too.” Kenny takes Kyle’s hand and glances to Stan._ _

__“Yeah. We don’t wanna be friends with you anymore. Leave us alone.” Stan grabs Kyle’s other hand and jerks his head to the doors of the school. “Let’s go.”_ _

__“Wait, you can’t do that!” Cartman yells. “I’m seriously, you guys. Stop it!”_ _

__Stan squeezes Kyle’s hand as they walk, Cartman’s shrieks slowly getting fainter. “You did it.”_ _

__“Yeah, it really does feel good.” Kyle rests his head on Stan’s shoulder. “Thanks.”_ _

__“Gay,” Kenny says, nudging his hip against Kyle’s. Kyle tries to hit him with their linked hands, but Kenny directs the swing to smack against his ass instead. Stan pushes them away, making a comment about getting the two a room. Kyle drops Kenny and grabs Stan’s shoulders instead, pleading for forgiveness. Cartman’s already forgotten by the three. Like he was never part of their group at all._ _


	2. 2

The temporary euphoria at ditching Cartman for good wears off at the realization that at some point in the day, Kyle, Kenny, and Stan are gonna have class with him. And it’s gonna fucking suck.

“Seriously Kyle, text me if he gets violent or something,” Stan urges.

“You know, this was your idea,” Kyle says. He rolls his eyes at Stan’s stern look. “Fine, but what are you gonna do? You’ll be in class too, you can’t just ditch ‘cause Cartman’s making me uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, lay off,” Kenny agrees, leaning on Kyle’s shoulder. “Like you said, he’s not dangerous.”

“I know, you’re right.” Stan rubs his temple and checks behind them to make sure Cartman isn’t following them. “It’s all so real now. Like, we’ve always talked about this but I can’t believe we actually did it. 

“You don’t regret it, do you?” Kyle asks. Stan hesitates. “We can still call it off, Stan. I can go over to him right now and say it was a joke.”

“No!” Kyle is as surprised as Stan by Kenny’s outburst. Kenny spins Kyle so they’re face to face, mere inches between them. “We’re doing the right thing, Kyle. We aren’t taking him back.”

“O-okay.” Kyle flushes at the close proximity. Luckily, Stan doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too busy drooling over Wendy as she makes her way to her locker. Kenny, picking up on Stan’s obliviousness, leans down and pecks Kyle on the cheek. Kyle shoves him away and points to the clock on his phone. “Class is starting.”

“See you guys at lunch.” Stan waves goodbye and runs to catch up to Wendy.

“Yeah, see you.” Kyle checks that the coast is clear, then grabs the strings of Kenny’s hood and pulls his face down to kiss him before running to his own locker.

Kenny watches Kyle go, then pulls out his schedule. Biology. Shit, that means—

“Hello, Kenny.” Kenny pretends not to hear Cartman and walks to class, the other boy following him closely. “Did you have fun without me last night?”

Images of a panting, moaning Kyle above him flash through Kenny’s mind. The memory is only strengthened by the painful twinge in his ass when he sits down behind his desk. It’s almost impossible not to take Cartman’s bait. “Yeah,” Kenny says curtly as he pulls his notebook and pencil from his backpack.

Too late, Kenny remembers that he usually shares Cartman’s textbook. He peeks at Cartman while setting down the rest of his materials on his desk. Sure enough, Cartman is waving the textbook back and forth with a smirk. Kenny grits his teeth and turns to the kid next to him.

“Hey Craig, can I share your textbook?” Kenny asks. He can hear Cartman slamming his own book against the desk in frustration. Craig cranes his neck forward to witness Cartman glaring daggers at Kenny.

“Uh, sure,” Craig says. He doesn’t ask what the deal with Cartman is, to Kenny’s relief. Kenny scoots his desk closer to Craig without a second glance back at his former friend. 

Cartman doesn’t relent throughout the entire class period, tossing crumpled paper at Kenny and whisper-shouting to him. It’s the exact rapidfire switch of tactics Kenny expected: one moment he’s sweet and groveling for forgiveness, the next he’s hurling obscenities. Not every one of Cartman’s points is terrible, Kenny has to admit. They were mostly true. For a while, Kenny had also hoped that Cartman could be his best friend, like Stan and Kyle. Thankfully, with Craig silently judging Kenny every time he starts listening to Cartman, Kenny feels a heightened amount of pressure to ignore him. Craig is a master at making you feel like a dumb shit without saying a word. So, Kenny gets back to work. Class ends up passing quicker than Kenny had thought it would, and he breathes a sigh of relief as the bell rings. Cartman is someone else’s problem now. 

***

“See you at lunch.” Wendy squeezes Stan’s hand and starts back across the hall to her locker. Stan’s lucky to have his own locker right by his first classroom. He makes a quick stop to grab his math books and heads to class.

Stan has never felt grateful for assigned seats before, but as he sets his backpack down a full four rows behind Cartman, he sends a quick prayer up. Praise Jesus. He rarely prays, as life usually goes his way, but this particular situation could either go well, or could go downhill very quickly. The teacher drones on about some boring equation the minute class begins and Stan finds himself zoning out.  His eyelids droop, and the arm he’d been using to prop up his chin sinks onto the desk.

“Hey, Stan, I think Cartman’s trying to tell you something,” Bebe whispers, nudging Stan back to reality. She nods to the front of the classroom, at Cartman’s seat, then goes back to doodling in the margins of her paper.

Against his better judgement, Stan looks where Bebe had pointed. Cartman isn’t facing Stan. He’s seemingly engrossed in the board, his notebook held high in front of him, probably to compare his model to the one that the teacher is explaining. Cartman shifts to the left, keeping his notebook where it was. Stan’s able to see what he wrote and doesn’t even try to suppress his sigh.

_Stan, I need you, please take me back_

Stan puts his head back down and closes his eyes. “He wrote something else,” Bebe informs Stan.

“What is it,” he mutters, not moving.

“It says, ‘You were the only one of those assholes I ever liked anyway.’”

“Flip him off for me, would you?”

There’s a pause, where presumably Bebe is following Stan’s directions. “He flipped us both off and wrote, ‘Fuck you and your fucking ugly bitch.’” Stan can hear the disgust in Bebe’s tone.

“Don’t read anything else he writes,” Stan recommends. “He’s desperate.”

“Good, I was getting tired of looking at his ugly, uh, back. And his handwriting sucks,” Bebe growls. “Wendy’s gonna love this.”

Stan hums in response, already dozing off. These assigned seats really are the best thing to happen to him. 

Stan’s woken up by Bebe a few minutes before class ends. “You didn’t miss anything important,” she assures him. “Only some review shit. You slept through like a billion of these, though.” 

Bebe tosses Stan a paper airplane. He throws it away without even opening it to see the message, knowing who it’s from. “Come on, it’s lunchtime.”

“It’s been, like, five years since Cartman called Wendy your bitch.” Bebe leans against the other lockers while Stan gets his lunch. The students she’s blocking don’t try to get by her. With a 4.0 GPA, wavy blonde hair, a huge rack, and huge heels, Bebe is more intimidating than most students want to admit. She’s effortlessly terrifying and sexy in a tight red turtleneck and leggings, but behind her made up features lies a mind like a steel trap. Anyone expecting a blonde bimbo from Bebe Stevens is in a for a nasty shock.

“Maybe to her face,” Stan says. He grabs his lunch and Bebe takes his other arm as they walk to the cafeteria. “Look, can we just shut up about Cartman? I don’t wanna talk about him anymore.” 

“Even if I don’t ask anything, you still have Heidi and Red to deal with,” Bebe reminds him, “plus whoever else has questions. You made a big step, Stan, you can’t expect everyone to ignore it.”

“I can hope,” Stan says. He releases Bebe’s arm as they reach their lunch table and she sits next to Wendy. Stan sits across from his girlfriend, next to Kyle and Heidi. Kenny and Red are already on Wendy’s side of the table, Kenny engrossed in his food and Red engrossed in Heidi. Stan wasn’t sure when it happened, but seemingly overnight, the two girls had taken his and Wendy’s place as South Park High’s it couple. Not that he or Wendy is complaining, they’ve had the spotlight for longer than either can stand.

Wendy says hi to Stan as he opens his lunch before going back to her English homework, teasing the pencil between her teeth as she ponders writing some essay. Bebe leans over to offer her own commentary. Stan’s almost decided that Bebe was wrong and no one was gonna ask him any hard questions, but something Red says makes Heidi turn to Kyle and Stan.

“Hey, Red was in class with Kenny and Cartman earlier and she says they were acting really weird, like they were fighting but Kenny was ignoring him,” Heidi says through a bite of salad. She had gone back to her old vegetarian diet after leaving Cartman, but ended up keeping about half the weight she had gained during that time. Red, Wendy, and the rest of the group agreed it was adorable, and Bebe had helped Heidi figure out the perfect clothes to compliment her figure. Heidi’s favorite is a knit green dress with a sweetheart neckline. She’s wearing it right now, accidentally dropping a carrot on her sleeve as she waits for a response. Stan suddenly finds his grilled cheese very interesting. Kyle stares at the floor.

“Yeah, Stan was doing the same thing.” Bebe squeezes Wendy’s arm. “Cartman called you Stan’s bitch, babe.”

The lead tip of Wendy’s mechanical pencil snaps. “Not surprised. Sexist piece of shit.”

“So what’s going on with you guys?” Red asks. Her style is the most drastic shift of the group’s. Her bright red hair is sheared in an undercut, and she’s always wearing her green and white letterman jacket or draping it over her girlfriend’s shoulders. Stan’s caught more than one “straight” girl do a double take at Red. Personally, he doesn’t get the hype around butch girls. Maybe it’s the muscles, he concedes. Wendy’s muscles are hotter than he’d ever imagined.

 “Well, he’s a dick,” Kyle says. Stan blinks, ripping his gaze away from Wendy’s arms. “Enough was enough, you know?”

 “So you ended it for good?” Bebe asks.

 “Yeah. It was Stan’s idea,” says Kenny. Stan’s got no idea how Kenny continues to eat with his hood pulled over mouth, but somehow, he manages it.

“That’s why he’s being pissier than usual,” Heidi muses. “You did the right thing. I know how hard it is to leave him, especially when he doesn’t want you to.” 

“I still can’t believe it lasted this long,” Wendy says, looking up from her paper. “You three gave him way too many chances, this was bound to happen sooner or later.” 

“Yeah,” Red chimes in loudly, but she isn’t looking at Heidi or Wendy or anyone else at the table anymore. Her challenging gaze is fixed on a point right above Kyle’s shoulder. “Cartman has always been a batshit crazy, abusive, sexist, anti-Semitic, fat pig, and he’s still a lame ass virgin. I hope you guys put him through it when you dumped him. He doesn’t deserve a nice goodbye.”

“Fuck you, Red!” It’s little shock to anyone when Cartman storms over to the table, finally provoked enough to react. “I’ve seen your girlfriend’s vagina, you stupid dyke!” 

“We were ten!” Heidi defends herself.

“Well, I see it and touch it every day, fatass.” Red laces her fingers through Heidi’s. “You haven’t come within a foot of a real pussy.” 

Cartman starts toward Red and she rises to her feet, pushing back her sleeves. “Stop it!” Wendy stands too, holding her arms between Red and Cartman. The others get up after Wendy, but none of them seem interested in keeping the peace. Bebe takes off her shoe and points the stiletto at Cartman’s chest. “Stop!” Wendy repeats. “We don’t wanna get in a fight.”

“‘Cause you know she’ll lose, hippie,” Cartman growls. He’s still fully tensed, his fists at his sides.

“I’m a rugby player. You don’t have a chance.” Red removes her jacket entirely and gives it to Heidi. “Get out before I kick your ass.” 

“Red, shut up!” Wendy grabs the front of Red’s shirt and starts to drag her away from the table. She points at Bebe. “Put your fucking shoe back on. Meeting in the bathroom, now.” 

Bebe slips her heel into her pump and shoots one last scowl at Cartman before she leaves with Wendy. Heidi follows without a second glance, zipped up in Red’s jacket. Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman share tense glances, the four still in fighting positions. Stan is the first to speak. “Why won’t you just leave us alone? Go find some other friends already.” 

“Nobody else gets me, you guys,” Cartman argues. He sits down. No one else does. 

“We don’t get you!” Kyle snaps. “We don’t fucking like you, Cartman! Nobody wants to be around you!”

“Hey, people like me just fine!” Cartman doesn’t stand back up even as he yells. Somehow, it feels more aggressive than if he was shoving Kyle against a wall and screaming in his face.

“Then why don’t you have any other friends? Why’d you drive away half our table?” Kyle shouts back. “No one at this goddamn school, in this goddamn town, gives a shit about you! Your funeral would be a celebration! There’d be a huge confetti cannon and everything!” 

“Dude,” Stan says. “Isn’t that a little far?”

“You drive everyone around you away because you are such an ignorant, malicious asshole. You’ve tried to kill me multiple times, you treat Kenny like a cheap slut, you keep trying to get Stan drunk even though you know he used to be an alcoholic.” Kyle stomps toward Cartman, listing off on his fingers. “You abused Heidi. You sexualize Bebe. You act as if Red’s not even a person now that she’s all butch. You always call Wendy a dumb bitch, even though she’s our fucking valedictorian! And that’s just our friend group, you wanna know what everyone else thinks of you?”

“Honey, stop,” Kenny warns. He looks worriedly at Cartman, who’s gotten steadily and significantly redder over the course of Kyle’s list.

“No, I wanna know why he does it. What makes you think the shit you do is okay? Why do you do it? Who made you like this?” Kyle slams his palms on the table in front of Cartman. “I think you must’ve been switched by accident in the hospital, because there is no way your fat, bigoted ass came out of Liane.”

 Kyle’s rant is cut short by a fist connecting with his windpipe. He’s knocked to the floor, dazed, but more angry now than ever. Before Kenny and Stan can stop him, Kyle lunges for Cartman’s legs and brings the other boy to the ground with him. Kyle hooks his legs around Cartman’s torso and aims for the face, but he’s only gotten a few punches in before Cartman reverses their positions. Unfortunately for Kyle, Cartman is nearly twice his size. Kyle covers his face and tries to think of a plan to escape and fight back as hits rain down on his arms, the force knocking his hat off.

 “Cartman, get off or I’m calling the principal and you’re getting expelled!” Stan threatens. Kyle’s embarrassed at having to be rescued from Cartman of all people, but it is a relief to be able to breathe again after Cartman gets off his chest. Kenny helps Kyle up and they watch Cartman stalk off. Stan picks up Kyle’s hat and hands it back to him without a word.

 The bell rings, breaking the silence, and Kyle groans. “God damn it, he’s in my next class.”

 “Wanna skip and smoke weed outside City Wok?” Kenny suggests.

 “You know what? Fine.” Kyle swings his backpack over his shoulders. “Let’s go.”


	3. 3

“Kenny, do you need me to drive you home?” 

Kenny isn’t sure who the voice comes from. The house is spinning, the faces around him unrecognizable. He doesn’t know how many beer bottles are around him or how many are his, but it’s definitely too many. He closes his eyes, trying to remember whose party this is. Maybe Clyde’s? Nichole’s? The voice asks again if he needs a ride. Kenny nods and starts to move toward it, then promptly doubles over and vomits. Through his ringing ears, he hears noises of disgust, the person who offered him a ride among them. The other partygoers shuffle away from him, leaving Kenny swaying in the middle of the living room. 

“Wait,” Kenny mumbles. He feels the bile rising in his throat again. Someone grabs him and shoves him outside onto the front porch just in time for Kenny to vomit over the porch railing. He retches a few more times before sagging against the rail. 

“Rough night?” Kenny squints at the person asking. He can’t make out much. A dark jacket, jeans. The face is a complete blur, no matter how hard Kenny tries to focus. What he can focus on is the red cup in the stranger’s hand.

“I was smoking with my friend,” Kenny slurs. “And then he left and now I’m here.”

“That story didn’t have much of a middle,” says the stranger. Kenny stares into the contents of the cup, only half aware that the strange kid was talking. There’s definitely something in there. It’s clear. Kenny’s hopes shoot up. Maybe vodka?

“What else would I do when Kyle left?” Kenny forces himself up from the railing and steps toward the stranger, collapsing against his leather jacket. A hand clamps around his waist, steadying him. “Can I drink that?” He barely waits for the nod before chugging the entire cup in one gulp. His bleary eyes widen as the taste hits him. “A straight cup of tequila? Man, you are hardco—“

Kenny drops the cup and slumps forward, the tequila shutting down his brain cells one by one until he is completely passed out. 

***

_ Kenny wasn’t sure why he had agreed to join Cartman when the other boy had called at midnight with a new money-making scheme. He hadn’t told Kenny the details, only to “wear something cute” and “bring condoms”. Kenny, since he was not an oblivious idiot or a virgin, had packed some lube too and met Cartman a few blocks from the house. Kenny had to laugh at Cartman’s obvious discomfort at being in the poorer part of town. He had chosen the right place, however. Already, cars were slowing down as they passed the pair.  _

_ “Good job, you look super hot,” Cartman said approvingly. Kenny had put his hood down and wore the most ripped pair of jeans he owned, plus a little of Karen’s mascara and lip gloss. It wasn’t as revealing as he could’ve done, but Colorado nights were cold and he was not giving up his parka. Cartman plowed on without giving Kenny a chance to reply to his comment. “The new plan: prostitution.” _

_ “Did you get that idea from your mom?” Kenny ducked Cartman’s hit and unzipped his parka a few more inches. If he was officially a hooker now, he might as well show off more skin.  _

_ “Since it was my idea and I let you share my bio textbook, I’m keeping half the money,” Cartman said. Kenny didn’t care too much. He had an actual job now, a cashier at Whole Foods, and money wasn’t quite as tight as before. Kevin had moved out and Karen had taken over Kenny’s old position at City Wok. Things weren’t as bad. Besides, Kenny had a feeling even half the earnings would be a fair amount.  _

_ “Okay,” Kenny said. “I’m setting my own prices.” _

_ “Sure, whatever.” Cartman patted Kenny on the shoulder. “Go stand on that street corner and look sexy. Someone will pick you up eventually.” _

_ And they did. Kenny counted six different johns from midnight to 2 AM, two women and four men. His parka had been torn open so often that Kenny let it hang unzipped on his body, exposing his chest to the chilly air. He was walking down the street and sorting through his money at around 2:15 when a beaten up truck started driving alongside him, slowing to match his pace. Kenny withheld a sigh and tucked the money back in his pocket. Even half of $250 was definitely enough, but it couldn’t hurt to make a little more.  _

_ Kenny walked over to the open window and leaned in on his elbows, his hair flopping into his face. “Want some company?” He purred. The driver jerked his head toward the passenger seat and Kenny walked around to hop in next to him. Kenny closed the door and turned to the driver. “So, it’s twenty for oral, sixty for anal—.” _

_ “I don’t like those prices,” the driver interrupted, not looking at Kenny. Kenny rolled his eyes and turned toward the door, only vaguely aware of the driver pulling something out of his own coat. Kenny had barely touched the handle when the door locked and a rough hand seized his chin and yanked his face up and around, pressing a gun against his forehead with the other hand. “You’re doing it all for free, pretty boy.” _

_ Having a gun pulled on him didn’t have the same effect on Kenny that it would’ve had on anyone else, but he certainly wasn’t excited about it. Getting shot hurt, and he didn’t want his dead body near this creep. It beat the alternative, however. Kenny wrenched his head free of the driver’s grip and wheeled around to yank on the door, but it was locked fast. He felt hands on his ass and hips and kicked backwards. The driver grunted and let go, and Kenny slammed his head against the window as hard as he could. The glass splintered. With a few hard punches, it shattered and fell out of the frame. Kenny scrambled through the window without hesitation, despite the broken shards scraping his stomach. He tumbled out of the window and landed flat on his back. As fast as he could, Kenny got up and started running. He heard the door open and two shots disturbed the air. He didn’t scream when he felt the bullets, one after the other, rip through his intestines and his brain. He swayed in place for a few seconds, watching the organs spill from his stomach and blood drip down his face. His knees gave out and Kenny collapsed into a sticky pool of his own blood. Tires screeched and Kenny felt the vibrations in the road as the truck sped away. It was the last thing Kenny felt that night. _

_ The next morning, Cartman would not shut up about the $250 he had made off of Kenny. At least now Kenny knew for sure Cartman had never intended to let him have any piece of it. Kenny played along with the feud, calling Cartman names and trying to swipe the cash. He had good reason to be angry, but not because of the money. That situation was more dangerous than he liked. He couldn’t really be upset, though. Cartman hadn’t known what happened. The man who shot Kenny probably didn’t even remember. Whether either would feel regret if they were aware of it didn’t matter. He was okay now, and the less they knew, the better. _

***

The first thing Kenny notices when he wakes up is his vicious headache. The second thing is that the room he’s in is completely dark, which does ease his hangover a bit. The third thing is that both of his wrists are handcuffed to a wall behind him. Kenny’s heart rate spikes and he feels around as much as he can to see what he’s chained to. It’s a steadily inclining metal fence of some sort. He yanks hard against the cuffs, but they hold fast. 

“Hello? Anyone?” Kenny doubts anyone will hear him. He’s dehydrated, any loud noise he tries to make sends painful spikes through his head, his hood muffles his speech, and it looks like no one else is down here. It’s almost worse when a light flicks on in response. Kenny hisses and blinks, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness that’s stabbing tiny knives into his brain. When he can finally see again, Cartman’s face is inches from his own. Definitely worse. 

Kenny’s irritation at seeing Cartman yet again melts back to panic as he remembers his circumstances and takes in his surroundings. He looks around as much as he can stand, wincing every time he moves his head. He’s in Cartman’s basement, Kenny realizes. It looks almost exactly as when they were kids. He tries to slip his wrists out of the handcuffs, which he’s now guessing are attached to the stairs leading up to the first floor of Cartman’s house. It’s pointless. “What the fuck?” Kenny struggles harder, trying to figure out how he got here. The last thing he remembers is drinking something while leaning against a stranger, who must have been Cartman. “Did you spike my drink?”

Cartman snorts. “No, that was pure tequila. I was counting on you drinking like you were Stan in sophomore year. That last cup was just supposed to make you pass out, finally get that alcohol poisoning.” He shifts farther away from Kenny, to the latter’s relief, but turns back around with a knife. “I’m not a monster, Kenny.”

“Right, you aren’t,” Kenny agrees nervously, eyes on the knife. “You’re very sane.”

“Exactly. Which is why I thought it was so weird when my best friends since before preschool suddenly turned on me.” Kenny flinches as the knife draws close to his head, but Cartman uses it to tear back his hood. Kenny knows that’s one of the better results, but having his face completely exposed is far scarier than a mere cut. The one layer of security he still had is gone. 

“Weird,” Kenny repeats faintly. Cartman hasn’t put the knife down yet. 

“And then not only do my very best friends abandon me, but all of their friends too,” Cartman says. Kenny doesn’t know why that surprises him. Nobody likes Cartman, but Bebe, Wendy, and Red had never even pretended to. Heidi hadn’t spoken to him since fifth grade. “Kyle made a speech about the entire school hating me. Is he right?”

“No!” Kenny lets out a strangled yelp as Cartman grabs his hair and slams his head against the fence, the metal links cutting into his scalp.

“Be honest,” Cartman growls, pressing the knife to Kenny’s throat. 

“Okay, he’s right! No one fucking likes you! I don’t like you!” The pressure on Kenny’s neck releases and he coughs. “What do you want from me, Cartman? Why are you doing this?”

“You hurt me. Now I’m hurting you.” Cartman slices the knife upwards. It grazes Kenny’s cheek, then separates the chunk of hair in Cartman’s fist from the rest of Kenny’s hair. He watches the blonde tuft drift to the ground, his heart pounding. 

“Well, you’re doing a shit job.” The words have barely left Kenny’s mouth before Cartman punches him in the nose. Kenny hears something crack. He catches a glimpse of the blood from his shattered nose on Cartman’s knuckles, and then the other boy hits him again, and again. Kenny tastes blood and tries to swallow it, feeling sick. Cartman pauses, and Kenny wastes no time in hurling a retort at him, despite the blood pouring from his mouth. “What about everyone else? Are you gonna do this to Stan and Kyle and Wendy and everyone else in the goddamn school? You aren’t gonna get away with this.”

“I’ll be faster next time, then.” Cartman drives the knife into Kenny’s arm and he can’t stifle his scream. “You’re lucky. You don’t know what it’s like to have everyone hate you, Kenny. To be alone when you’re surrounded by people.”

“I don’t know what it’s like to have a reason to!” Kenny shrieks again as Cartman stabs his other arm. His eyes widen as he registers Cartman’s words. “What do you mean, ‘faster’? Are you gonna kill them?”

“And you.” Cartman cuts Kenny across the eye. Kenny whimpers in pain, but his mind is racing. His friends, they’re going to be hunted and killed like animals. They’re gonna die. Kyle is going to die. 

“It won’t work. People will look for them. People will look for me. I have a little sister. This is gonna destroy her.” Knowing that he’ll come back, Kenny doubts that Karen will really be destroyed. “I’m gonna be the last person you kill.”

“That’s a problem for future me.” Cartman tilts Kenny’s chin and he’s reminded of that night in the truck. He shudders. “Right now, you’re mine.”

“I will never be yours.” Kenny spits in Cartman’s face. He’s appalled by how much of it is blood. 

“I can make you mine.” Kenny jerks his head from Cartman’s grip, but Cartman doesn’t seem to care, instead trailing his fingers down Kenny’s chest. Kenny’s throat tightens and he presses himself as far back from Cartman as he can. “Just like how you’re Wendy’s and Porsche’s and Tweek and Craig’s and Henrietta’s and Butters’ and all those strangers’ on streets.”

“You forgot Kyle,” Kenny says coldly. He doesn’t wait to see Cartman’s reaction. “And maybe I’m a slut, but I would rather fucking die than be your slut, you fat, psychotic, ugly pig!”

“Fuck off,” Cartman says. He picks the knife back up and stabs it into Kenny’s torso over and over again. Kenny counts ten times before the knife hits his heart and everything goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> he ran into my knife tEN TIMES


	4. 4

Kyle stabs the mush the school serves for lunch with his fork in a steady pattern. He hasn’t eaten a bite in the thirty minutes since he’s had his tray. The others sitting around the table watch him uneasily. Heidi pulls Red’s arm around her, but neither look away. Kyle isn’t scaring anyone, exactly, but he’s not giving off very encouraging vibes. 

“Hey,” Stan tries, touching Kyle’s shoulder. “Maybe you should eat some of that instead of mashing it even more.”

“How are none of you freaking out?” Kyle explodes, almost before Stan’s finished talking. “It’s been over a week and it’s as if I’m the only one who’s even noticed he’s gone!”

Heidi has to stop herself from asking who to intentionally rile Kyle up. She knows damn well who, and Kyle’s right. It’s no laughing matter. It’s not funny.  _ They just don’t get it. It’s totally funny,  _ says a voice in her head. It sounds uncomfortably like Cartman. She buries her head deeper in Red’s shoulder, shaking off the voice. Red absentmindedly strokes Heidi’s hair, still watching Kyle and Stan.

“I know you’re worried, but it’s not as though this isn’t like him,” says Stan. He takes Kyle’s other shoulder and starts rubbing them calmingly. “He’ll be back.”

“Stop it!” Kyle swats Stan’s hands away. “Kenny is never gone this long, and you know it. None of us can contact him. He’s not at home. Something is fucking up.”

“Sorry babe, but I’m with Kyle,” Wendy says with an apologetic squeeze of Stan’s arm. “It doesn’t add up. He was so excited to start that group project for home ec. with Bebe and I. He wouldn’t ditch that.”

“Thanks, Wendy.” Kyle smiles at Wendy, but the pain behind it is obvious. 

“Uh huh, and what would we do if he really was missing?” Bebe asks. She has the audacity to look bored, twirling her hair around her finger. Heidi clutches onto Red harder, turning her face away from Bebe. “The police get so many truancy reports about him that they won’t take us seriously. He can’t care that much about our project. And honestly, maybe he’s off on a bender or something. You know he’s a wild card. He’s gonna come back.”

“Fuck off, Bebe.” Kyle flings a forkful of what was once supposed to be mashed potatoes onto Bebe’s sweater. He tugs the ears of his hat to pull the rim over his eyes. “I don’t like it. This is wrong.”

“What does Karen say?” Red reaches out with the arm that isn’t holding Heidi and pushes Kyle’s hat back up. Everyone knows that Kenny isn’t the most honest with his parents anymore, but he trusts Karen. They’re closer than any other siblings Heidi has ever met. 

“I haven’t gotten a chance to ask her,” Kyle admits. “She was at City Wok when I went to their house.”

“She’ll know,” Bebe says confidently. “And then it’ll all go back to normal and Kyle can stop moping like some jilted boyfriend.”

Kyle scowls at Bebe, but he nods and scoops up the mashed potatoes with his fork. The scoop hasn’t even reached his mouth when the bell rings. He puts the fork back down on the tray and tosses the uneaten meal in the trash. Heidi can’t blame him. She hates the inedible school lunches too.

“Are you okay, honey?” Red whispers as they get up and start the walk to P.E. class. “You were really quiet during lunch.”

Heidi hesitates, then pulls Red by the hand into a janitor’s closet. “I think Kyle’s right. I think something happened to Kenny.”

“Oh.” Red relaxes. Heidi tightens her grip on her girlfriend’s hand in frustration.  _ Take me seriously, god damn it!  _ “Are you sure? I thought Bebe had a good theory. Remember when he went on that month long bender in LA? He took Tweek and apparently they got kicked out of the observatory for getting super high on shrooms inside the big dome.”

“Yeah, but he’s trying to get clean for Karen, remember?” Heidi tucks her hair behind her ear and leans in, checking over her shoulder despite the total privacy they’re in. Red leans in too. “I think Cartman did something to him.”

“What?” Red pulls back. 

“No, listen!” Heidi begs. “He always threatened to kill himself when I would try to break up with him. Maybe he’s doing the opposite now and, you know, killing other people.”

“Babe, do you know how crazy that sounds?” Red sighs, running a hand through her short hair. “I mean, it’s possible, but don’t you think it’s a stretch?”

“All I know is that he went ballistic when the boys kicked him out, and now Kenny is missing and Cartman hasn’t bothered us since. He’s up to something.” Heidi presses her cheek to Red’s chest, the sound of her girlfriend’s heartbeat soothing and steady on her frayed nerves. “Please, I know what he’s like, how he works. I still hear that voice in my head, telling me to do all the wrong things.”

“Okay, I hear you.” Red wraps her arms tightly around Heidi in a fierce hug. “We can go ask around about Kenny after school, okay? I bet Kyle and Wendy will help out. We can even force Bebe and Stan to come.”

“Okay,” Heidi sniffs. She grins weakly. “Sorry for being such a mess.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Red grabs Heidi’s ass. “Come on, let’s go to class. I can’t wait another minute to see your legs in those little gym shorts.” Heidi giggles and kisses Red, then takes her hand and walks to the locker rooms. Red is right. Even if Cartman was involved, he’s nothing she can’t handle. She’s done it before. There’s only one thing Cartman’s ever been right about: Heidi Turner is smart and funny, and she is never going to be a victim. 

***

“You know, I didn’t see Tweek during history,” says Stan as he trudges to Kenny’s house with the others. “Kenny always gets high with him. I bet they’re out in Denver snorting meth or something right now.”

“But Tweek’s been here the rest of the week,” Wendy reminds Stan. She’s been assigned the unfortunate role of the peacekeeper, walking in between her best friend and her boyfriend. Neither Bebe nor Stan is all too pleased that Wendy, Kyle, Heidi, and Red are forcing them along, and Wendy is doing her best to stop them from expressing as much. “Look, we’re right here, let’s at least ask.”

Heidi shivers as she looks up at the McCormick home, though she doesn’t know if it’s from the cold or nerves. Red, seeing that Heidi has frozen, reaches forward and rings the doorbell. Nothing happens. 

“It’s broken,” Kyle says, shoving past Red and knocking loudly on the door. With a closer look, Heidi sees that despite the rust forming in the doorbell, its unused surface is shiny and unmarked by fingerprints. It’s the only shiny and unmarked part of the house she can see. 

The door swings open and Heidi is the only one at eye level with Karen. It feels embarrassing to be as tall as a twelve year old, but Karen seems relieved to not have all of the teens bending over or crouching down to talk to her. “What’s up?” Karen asks. Her eyes flicker to Stan and Kyle. She knows all of Kenny’s friends, including Heidi, Red, Bebe, and Wendy, but it’s clear who she’s most familiar with. 

“Hey, Karen.” Kyle moves his hand slightly as though he’s bout to wave, but changes his mind and shoves his hand into his pocket. “Is Kenny around?”

“No.” Karen’s face falls. “He hasn’t been home all week. I was hoping he was staying with you.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Wendy says. Heidi knows she’s also seeing the panic starting to form in Karen’s eyes. “He’ll show up, he always does.” 

“I’m not dumb. I know Ken’s a junkie, and I know he’s probably out getting high, but he always tells me before he disappears like this.” Karen clenches her tiny fists, looking down. “This isn’t like him.”

Heidi takes Karen’s hands and pulls her into a tight hug. “We’re gonna find him, and we’ll tell you when we do, okay? You just stay safe.”

“Okay.” Karen hugs Heidi back, then waves goodbye as Heidi lets go. “Good luck.”

The door slams shut, and the group starts back the way they came. “Well, that was a bust,” Bebe says. “Can we go home now?”

“No, we still have so much to do!” Heidi says incredulously. “We promised Karen we’d find Kenny. That means looking for him.”

“Our only lead was a dead end. What do you want us to do, Heidi?” Bebe crosses her arms. “It’s cold, wet, and my shoes keep slipping on this goddamn ice.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have worn those slutty stripper heels,” Heidi snaps. Everyone around her freezes. Fuck. She had listened to the voice. “Bebe, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“No, it’s fine.” Bebe looks down, biting her lip. It’s easy to see how upset she is. “Everyone else thinks I’m a whore, why shouldn’t you?”

“I don’t think you’re a whore! It just slipped out,” Heidi tries to defend herself, but the hurt in Bebe’s eyes only grows. 

“You can go fuck yourself, Heidi.” Bebe bends to take off her platforms so she can walk properly on the ice. “Cunt,” she mutters as she storms off. 

“Bebe, wait!” Heidi calls, but Bebe doesn’t pause for even a second. 

“It’s sweet what you’re trying to do, Heidi, but it doesn’t matter.” Stan tries to smile at Heidi, but it comes out as a grimace. “I’d stop before you make anyone else cry.” He pats Heidi’s shoulder, then chases after Bebe. 

Heidi watches them go helplessly. She wheels around to Kyle, Red, and Wendy. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I said that.”

Wendy’s face is equal parts scared and angry, as if Heidi was going to turn back into the bully she had been. Kyle looks like he’s remembering something he’d tried to forget. With a pang, Heidi recalls some of the things she’d said to Kyle in particular seven years ago. Red, at least, seems understanding, if exhausted. She ruffles Heidi’s hair. “Forget about it, babe. Let’s keep going. Who last saw Kenny?”

“Me,” Kyle says. He shifts his gaze from only Heidi to the others as well. “We went out to smoke behind City Wok for a couple hours, then I had to go home and finish my college apps.”

“Do you remember what Kenny said he was gonna do after you left?” Wendy asks. 

“Go to a party, I think.” Kyle furrows his brow. “I don’t know whose.”

“Clyde’s,” Wendy says before Kyle’s even finished speaking. “Bebe posted a selfie at his party last week.”

“What are we waiting for, then?” Heidi starts off toward Clyde’s house. The journey there is silent. Thankfully, Heidi’s barb toward Bebe seems to be forgotten, and the silence is tense rather than awkward. No one knows what to expect from Clyde, but it can’t be anything good. Heidi rings the doorbell, and a disheveled Clyde answers a few minutes later. 

“Hey, ladies,” he says, straightening up. Heidi has to giggle. Even when it comes to a lesbian couple and a girl who celebrated her seventh anniversary a week ago, Clyde switches to pure fuckboy mode the moment he sees a girl. “What are you doing here? Want a drink?”

“We want answers,” Wendy declares. Clyde rolls his eyes, but he keeps listening. “Kenny was at your party last week, right? Did you see where he went?”

“Oh man, that was fucking wild.” Clyde leans back on the doorframe. “I don’t know where he went, though. Last I saw, he had barfed on my carpet and Cartman was dragging him outside.”

“Oh no,” Red murmurs. 

“I fucking knew it.” Heidi leads them away from a bewildered Clyde. “What do we do?”

“Hey, sorry but I have to go, um, write my valedictorian speech,” Wendy says, backing away.

“You can’t leave now, Wendy!” Kyle protests. “Not when Kenny was last seen with that crazy fatass.”

“He can’t come back into my life.” Wendy shakes her head, eyes wide. “I’ve been so happy without him.” Her voice breaks. “I don’t want that to end.”

“Kenny could be hurt,” Kyle says. “Doesn’t that matter to you?”

“I’m sorry, Kyle, I can’t.” Wendy creeps farther away, then turns and walks towards her own house, head down. 

Kyle faces Heidi and Red. “We don’t have time to convince her. We have to find Kenny.”

Cartman’s house is close to Clyde’s, and all too soon Heidi, Red, and Kyle are standing in its front yard. “Do we knock?” Red says, shifting her feet. It’s clear she’s never been to Cartman’s house before. She isn’t gripped by the same emotions and memories Heidi and Kyle are. She doesn’t even know which room is Cartman’s, squinting up at Liane’s window by mistake. 

“No.” Kyle leads the girls into the backyard. “He’s either got Kenny in the attic, his bedroom, or the basement. We should split up and look. I know his room, I’ll go there.”

“You haven’t been here before, you should take the attic. It’s pretty small and easy,” Heidi tells Red. “I’ll do the basement.”

Kyle takes a bobby pin from Heidi’s hair and unlocks the back door. The three sneak in, unsure if anyone is home. Heidi presses her lips to Red’s, then climbs down the basement stairs. She has to turn on her phone flashlight as she goes down and stumbles around a bit when she reaches the end of the stairway, searching for the light switch. She finally manages to flick it on. Heidi turns off her phone light and looks around cautiously. A few feet away from her, attached to the metal railing of the stairs she’d walked down moments before, are a pair of slightly bloody handcuffs. She snaps a photo and looks around further. 

Heidi’s fear and revulsion increases bit by bit with every new item she finds, every picture she takes. Scattered tufts of blonde hair. A freshly cleaned knife. Kenny’s slashed up hood. It’s almost like a trail. Heidi picks up the hood and examines the new tears on it. Whatever happened, it was violent enough to completely separate it from the rest of Kenny’s parka. She takes a few steps forward, unsure if she wants to. Heidi sees orange fabric peeking from the top of a garbage bin shoved against the wall on her left. She knows what she’ll find even before she yanks the lid off the bin and finds herself staring down at Kenny’s mutilated corpse. 

Heidi chokes out a sob and backs away as fast as she can until she hits the fence on the stairs. She whips out her phone and starts to frantically text Red and Kyle, but something knocks it out of her hands. 

“I thought you’d given up social media,” Cartman says. The stab wounds across Kenny’s body flash though Heidi’s mind again, but she forces herself to straighten up and look Cartman in the eye. “That’s how we met, remember?”

“Yep, and that’s why I decided to get a new phone.” Heidi pushes Cartman away from her and makes a break for the stairs. “Goodbye forever.”

“Not so fast.” Cartman grabs Heidi’s wrist. “You think I let you get this far, let you see everything, for you to go and blab?”

“I’m not Kenny. I’m not drunk or drugged or tied up. I’m five feet and 160 pounds of solid rage, and I can kick your ass.” Heidi rips her hand from Cartman. “I know you. I was you. I am going to kill you before I let you kill me.” 

Heidi sees Cartman clenching his fists, and with a quick prayer, she throws the first punch before he can. “I know how you think,” she growls, swinging her fist again. He ducks her second hit and lunges to slap her. “I think like you every day.” Heidi lets the momentum from the slap spin her around and slams her 160 pounds of rage into Cartman’s chest while he’s expecting her to still be reeling. She knocks him down and grabs the nearby knife, holding it above his forehead. He stills. “I’ve lived with that ever since fifth grade. I lost so many friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, before I finally got a filter. I’ve imagined this so often. That part of me is gonna die with you. It’ll finally be over.”

“And what’s that part of you saying right now?” Cartman asks. Heidi hesitates, the knife trembling in her hand.

“It wants me to kill you while I have the chance,” Heidi admits. She lets the knife clatter to the floor. “I-I can’t.”

In an instant, Cartman rolls to his knees on his side, dragging Heidi with him by the neckline of her dress, and slams her against the wall. She has the sense to scream for help, shrieking out Red’s name as loudly as possible. Her cries are cut off by Cartman’s fingers closing over her throat. She gags, clawing desperately at his hands. “It sometimes pays to listen to that part of yourself, doesn’t it?” Cartman says, squeezing tighter. Heidi whines, the only sound she’s capable of making, still trying to pry Cartman’s hands off of her. She hears yells and feet pounding above her, but she can tell they’re nowhere near the stairs yet. Heidi kicks out, but her block heels simply glance off of Cartman’s jeans. Bebe was right to wear stilettos. Tears spring to Heidi’s eyes as she gasps for breath, head dimming. 

Through the fog and blackness seeping into her vision, Heidi thinks the shouting becomes a little louder. She sees two pairs of sneakers charging down the stairs. Cartman’s sickly satisfied, determined expression shifts to anger with a hint of worry. He grips Heidi’s throat extra hard, as if to literally crush her larynx. The dark spots set in faster. Cartman lets go and she slides to the ground, but before she can take a single breath, she feels a shoe stomp down on her neck, applying even more pressure than the hands. In her last moments of clarity, Heidi sees Red running towards her with terror in her eyes, then she feels another, harder, stomp on her neck, and the world goes black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she’s not gonna be done by halloween oops

**Author's Note:**

> expect this to update p quickly, since its a halloween fic it’s gotta be done by the end of october. kisses!


End file.
